Facing my Demons
by RottenAppleofEducation
Summary: After talking with Meredith, the things that wake Kate in the night have nothing to do with her dragon. What if her greatest fears are finding out about all the damage she caused to her own lover over the last few years before they were together...
1. Chapter 1

Kate waited impatiently for him to open the door. It had been ages since she had dropped into see Dr. Burke. In fact, she had ditched her last appointment the day she finally showed Rick how much he meant to her. She had much to report; but if she were entirely honest, she should have been visiting Burke still.

Rick gave her an anchor, a safe harbor: balance. But he didn't heal the scars she gave herself. The 9 months of therapy helped her face the life she was meant to have, but she still hadn't learn to forgive herself for weakness. The old saying goes that you can't truly love someone else until you love yourself. She could prove that wasn't true.

"Detective. It's good to see you. Won't you come in?" Burke had opened the door without her noticing. His comforting half smile, always at the ready, put her at ease immediately.

She waited in her regular spot. She knew he was closing the door and grabbing her file. She may have ignored the ritual for a very long time, but it hadn't changed at all.

He returned to his chair quietly. "What brings you to see me today?"

Kate opens her mouth to start talking but then stops. He watches the puzzlement trace across her brow as she puts her head in hands.

"I wish I knew. I'm doing so much better than I have been for years. Rick and I have been together since May. It's been…" She pauses mid thought as a very private smile emerges. Her eyes are unfocused. He knows Kate's thinking about the steps she and Rick have made. Judging by her face, that relationship isn't an issue.

He clears his throat. "Can you tell me why you looked anxious out in the waiting room?"

She nods. "I was thinking about me. I'm great at my job. I've been honest and open with Rick, or at least far more than I have with anyone else including Lanie. But, I still feel like I'm a disaster waiting to happen."

She stands and walks over to the window.

She continues talking with her back turned to the doctor. "I love Rick. I really do. When we are together it doesn't feel new or even like work—we fit. But" She breaks off for a moment. She turns from the window and looks back at Burke. "But then there are the nights or sometimes days when I am not with Rick and I wonder why he would choose me. I'm still that broken woman. At first I do yoga, cook, clean, read. But then my brain begins churning. I crave justice. I want to hunt my mom's murder to the end of the Earth. I know who he is. I want to see him in the cross hairs. I want to see him fighting for his last breath. I want him to beg for his life. Feel me watching, looking over his shoulder anytime he goes anywhere. He should fear me. I want him to lose."

The rage in her speech dies out when she stops. She whispers. "I want him dead—to kill him."

Burke watches her pace back to her chair and flop back into it. Tears burn down her cheeks.

"Kate, who are you mad at him or you?"

She lifts her head from the back of the chair where she had begun to stare at the ceiling.

"Both." The answer leaps from her lips before she's even thought about the answer.

"Why are you mad at yourself?"

She chews on her lower lip and rubs her hands together quietly. "I thought I was better than him. I used to believe I wanted him brought to justice, to see him sitting in jail for the rest of his life. I don't. I want him planted in the ground. How can I be an officer and want to kill him? How can I be this full of hate and be a good person?"

Burke drops his pen on his desk and stands. He walks over to where she is seated.

"Kate, just because you struggle to do the right thing doesn't make you less than you are. You live this everyday; choosing the honest path is always difficult. You've known that since before I met you. So, again. What is this about?"

She bites the tip of her finger thinking. "What if I boil over some day? I could hurt Rick or Alexis or even my dad."

Burke smiles gently. "Kate, you're worried about your family. You don't want to hurt them. Your thinking of running again. It won't work. They're already your family in your head. Leaving Rick behind wouldn't change that. You would be adding pain to their lives caused by you—not your mother's murderer. It would be you."

She nodded her head. "He's been getting so serious lately. He hasn't proposed or anything, but he keeps saying a few more years maybe we'll…What we will do changes but it so…" Her voices trails off.

Burke raises an eyebrow. "Permanent."

Kate nods. That was her exact thought.

"So what's wrong with permanent?"

She chews her lip thinking again. A wry smile crosses her lips. "Nothing if you don't consider what it means. I can handle the press and his mother."

"So, what about the two exes and the daughter?"

Kate rolls her eyes. "Meredith, that's wife number one, says that Rick won't let you know him like he keeps himself secret and hidden away."

"What do you think?"

She shakes her head. "When she first said that I thought she was right. I don't know much about his childhood or his school years, but then I thought about it. I know as much about his life as he really knows about mine. He's very private, but the more I share with him, he gives me tidbits of himself too. He tends to share more of his life with Alexis than anything."

Burke brows furrow in acknowledgement, but he waits her out. She's leaving out the crucial piece. She can feel it.

"Rick doesn't share his aches and pains. He knows about my mom and my struggle to overcome her death. He knows about me learning to open up to him with you. He knows about my dad's alcohol problem. He has to have some serious sadness in there. I barely even know about what went wrong in his two marriages much less anything else negative in his life."

Burke laughs. "He's a man Kate. We don't tend to share those things unless forced. Have you tried asking?"

She shakes her head. "He changes the subject."

"Change it back. Maybe he doesn't share the darkness with you because he doesn't want to hurt you or maybe he doesn't want to think about it either." He pauses. "Kate first think about why you need to know these things. If it is curiosity or a need to know? Talk to him. Tell him what you need. Tell him why."

"I don't know if I can."

"Why Kate?"

"I think the person who has hurt him the most is me." She looks up at him with tears streaking down again. "What if I'm the worst of it? What if I'm the one that broke his heart and caused more pain than anyone else?"

"What if you are the person that brings him the greatest happiness as well? Talk to him Kate, and for God's sake don't spend half of your conversation with him deflecting onto things that you already know the answer to."

She smiled while wiping her tears. He was right. She knew that her greatest fear had been that when she finally gets him to open up that his greatest injuries were caused by her. She wakes in the night sometimes remembering the look on his face as he waited for the elevator doors to close on the day he saved the city from a bomb. Her arms wrapped around Josh and him kissing her head. Rick turned their direction. Her partner was dying inside and she was too much of a coward to do anything.

She'd come so far, but she knew she had so much to make up for that there was no way to actually do it.

"Thanks Doc."

"Anytime detective."


	2. Chapter 2

Kate stirs her coffee idly looking off in the distance. Rick has been tapping mercilessly at his laptop for more than an hour. Most of the time he asks for a few minutes to finish his idea, it's just that. Tonight it's different. The loft's quiet except for the constant clacking from his office. He had left only a few lamps on going for a minimalist romantic effect. Instead little ghosts keep invading her mind; romance doesn't burn with cold coffee and sitting solo on the couch.

She stretches her legs and props her bare feet on the coffee table replaying her conversation with Meredith for what must be the millionth time this week.

"_**Meredith, why didn't you and Rick work out?"**_

Kate berates herself for that one. Never has she asked a more foolish question except for maybe that first time she spoke to Rick. She realizes she needed the answer, but does she really want to know? What if he won't let her in any further than he did the deep fried Twinkie?

She took a sip of her coffee. Castle erupted in her laughter.

"What's so funny?" she inquired while leaning over to place her cold mug next to her feet.

"Either my coffee making skills are gone or the mocha whipped coffee I made has lost its appeal." He sits down next to her waiting for an explanation.

She leans forward and gives him a soft kiss. "When the temp goes down, it quits being drinkable."

He brushes her hair away from her eyes. "But that doesn't explain the sad lost look before that sip."

What starts as a sheepish smile grows quickly. "I was just thinking about something someone said. It isn't important."

She tried to cover, but he knew all her tells. He didn't miss it. She knew he didn't. She waited for him to call "bullshit." But he didn't. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. With her head on his chest, his warmth spreading into her body, limbs. This perpetual war with her own mind is so tiring.

"What if I cancel our dinner plans? I could throw together something for dinner. "

A quick nod of her head "I'm tired. Staying in would be perfect." She nuzzles into his chest for a moment. "What grand adventure am I giving up?"

"_**Being married to Rick was great, full of romance and excitement…"**_ Kate can hear Meredith's comment hanging in the air waiting.

He half- heartedly laughs at her attempt at deflection. "It wasn't anything important. " He covers disappointment better than most, but she can still hear it. She tightens her grip on his shirt.

"What if we change the type of adventure?" as soon as it came out of her mouth, she knew he would be thinking in a completely different direction than she was. But, then again sex wasn't out of the question; it just wasn't what her goal for the evening.

She could envision the imaginary horns sticking out of his hair. The bad boy shifted to the forefront.

"Whoa, Castle. I meant that I wanted to learn more about your childhood. Talk." Before her words caused too much damage, she pressed her lips to his. "But, I think I can create a reward system if it helps." But the man in her arms was not in a playful mood, but somber.

"Why?" he asked. The crease between his eyes has become pronounced.

She kissed him again and slid onto his lap. "I know Rick Castle, but I want to know little Ricky too. Did you play in the park during the day or build model airplanes? Did you always love a good story or did following Martha to the theatre every night inspire it? Or was it a girl you had a crush on in the 4th grade? I don't know, but I want to." She felt him give in under her high speed ramble. Nervousness didn't appear when she interrogated criminals, but apparently lovers were a different beast altogether. She appreciated him letting the 'Little Ricky' comment slide without his usual rejoinder. He respected her sincerity.

He cupped her face in his hand and bumped his forehead with hers. "Are you going to be sharing too or is this a one man show?"

Reticent didn't begin to describe how he sounded. He reminded her of the new kid in class in elementary school that was always forced to mumble an introduction to a crowded classroom just waiting for the first volley of the verbal assault to take them down.

She leaned further into his touch letting her lips touch his as she spoke. "I thought maybe you could tell me a story or two from you early years and I would do the same. We don't have to share everything at once, but I need to quit hiding from my past so I hope that you will share some of yours too."

Before he answered she slipped from his lap to go toward her bag next to the door. If she had thought about it, she would have guessed he thought she was leaving. But, she had been planning for this moment for months so she didn't think about what his fears of her running. She didn't veer from her path. She knelt down and unzipped her bag; she extracted a book before standing and spinning around on the ball of her foot only to crash into his chest.

"Don't go." He wrapped his arms tightly around her without absorbing the fact that she had turned to him.

She stumbled against him a moment after crashing into him. "Rick, I have been carrying something around waiting for the right time, but to me there never is one." She handed him a large navy scrapbook. It looked fairly new.

"What's this?"

"This is part of what I did sitting in that cabin listening to insects last summer. Dad brought boxes and boxes of my childhood photographs and mementos. All my memory books were destroyed in the fire. So, I finally found the time to build new ones. These are more organized than the originals, but now I can share this part of my life with you."

She had caught him off guard. She could see it in the speedy blinks of his eyes and how his mouth moved but no intelligent sound came out. He held the book in his hand marveling that she had brought it. She managed to silence him more than any other person ever had.

"Pizza?" He asked.  
"What? I share my life for pizza?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, I share my life for pizza. You share your life for…"

He had thought about making it an innuendo, but he couldn't cheap in it that way. The fear in his eyes shined through.

"Then I guess I will have to trust you to reward me appropriately." She paused before tossing him the phone. She leaned over to whisper seductively in his ear. "Does this mean that if I share a lot you will do anything I want?"

He nodded and gulped. "Writer boy, you have a phone call to make." She snagged her book back from his hands and slipped away toward the sofa.

"And, don't even think about sitting down here until you have at least one photo album that predates your voice change."


	3. Chapter 3

Demons 3

Kate couldn't honestly tell anyone when it was that Castle became the ultimate body pillow, but more often than not she woke in the middle of the night with her body between his legs using his chest and torso for her pillow her arms wrapped around either side of him. It wasn't so much post coital bliss as the ultimate teddy bear…no, security blanket. Here, in this space, fear was irrelevant. So, why was she replaying their evening in her head?

She considered getting up to prevent waking him, but instead she moved one of her hands to just below his heart and lightly placed her chin there. She watched him sleep. In the back of her mind she could hear him calling it creepy, but she rarely took advantage of these moments with him. Most of the time Rick the entertainer is ruling, the one man show that has a thousand stories to tell, but this version of him the quiet loyal man is the one she loves. With her free hand she traces a hairline scar that runs along his jawline. He received it from that horrible day at the bank. She nearly lost him then and so many other days. But that thought is quickly overridden by one of the stories he shared a few hours ago.

He was telling her about the first time he remembers going to the bank with his mother for a loan. The picture of him in the suit she had bought him for that occasion wasn't nearly as amusing when he took off his Phantom of the Opera mask. There is something horribly wrong about a four year old boy in a double breasted suit. In the photograph after the mask had been taken a stoic little boy stared defiantly at the camera. She hadn't asked questions about the black eye or that Martha was mysteriously never showing her face to the camera. Martha had frequently mentioned the parade of men that had come and gone in Rick's formative years, but she knew there had been more to the story. Rick had left to refill their glasses while she flipped to the next page. She suspected he had wanted to avoid the look on her face when she learned what the occasion had been. The photograph of Martha shaking hands with a woman at the bank smiling from ear to ear had not distracted her from two important details hidden within the photograph. Martha's coat had not managed to completely conceal that she had one arm in a sling. Nor could she miss the finger shaped bruises along her collar bone. Rick had mentioned that they were seeking to buy a new apartment in a safer building had spoken volumes. Normally, on any other day, Kate's heart would have been broken by this reality. The love of her life had not had a fairy tale childhood that she had experienced. But, then she noticed the shocked expression on the female bankers face and noticed the four year old hand run his hand up the back of her leg. Kate had not fought the laughter; instead she teased him for being a lecherous toddler.

When Rick had returned with two more glasses of wine, his shoulders were more relaxed. He knew she had seen the injuries, but she hadn't played twenty questions with the opportunity. She only asked about his hands.

"I was fascinated with pantyhose at the time. Hers were so silky and held on by garter belts." With a mischievous grin he leaned in, "Ms. Smith was my favorite banker for years. For some strange reason she stayed behind the counter after that day. I always had a brass gate between me and her."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Gee Castle, I wonder why." She leaned in and kissed him and turned the page again.

His eyes fluttered open and looked down at her.

"What time is it?"

"Maybe four. It's still early."

Concern flashed through his eyes. "Then why aren't we sleeping?"

She caressed his face and smiled tenderly. "I'm just enjoying the moment. You can go back to sleep if you want."

He hums a negative response. "There was something I wanted to ask you earlier. When I offered to buy you a pony you never mentioned that you used to ride English style in competitions. Why didn't you tell me?"

She cleared her throat and tried to explain internally before saying it out loud. "It was a phase I went through. Mom had enjoyed riding as a girl. I tried to be interested and competitive, but it wasn't me. In a way I failed to live up to her expectations." She paused for a moment sliding off of him and snuggling into his side. "Those were my awkward years. Nothing I did worked out right. I don't like to think back to those days. Besides a few years later I bought the Harley and never looked back."

He rolled over and slid down so that they were nearly nose to nose. "If you ever feel like wearing those tight riding pants, I won't object. Of course, leather motorcycle pants are out of the question either."

"I'll keep that in mind." She says kissing him again. She pulls back her eyes question before her mouth does. "How did you get the black eye?"

Rick rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. "Sadly, this is one of those stories that you won't believe. Mother was dealing with a broken wrist. She never completely explained how it happened but she sought a safer building for us to live in immediately after the cast appeared. One of the actors she was dating had taken it upon himself to distract me as mother went apartment hunting with a friend. He took me to the batting cages thinking it was time for me to learn to swing a bat. Now, any idiot can tell you that even 6 year olds still play t-ball because they can't keep up with the pitches. Let's just say that epic fail doesn't come near to describing that day." Any seriousness that had been radiating from him evaporated when he let out a snicker. "I'd almost forgotten about when he came to rescue me from being the crumpled heap on the floor that he hadn't been paying attention. I may have had a black eye, but you'd think a grown man would have been more careful. He was hit twice in the face right after I discovered he wasn't wearing a cup. In the end I helped him with getting ice for his injuries. He didn't seem so eager to babysit me after that."

Kate's giggles gave way to the cutest snort he'd ever heard.


	4. Chapter 4

Demons 4

Kate sighs and tosses her keys onto her kitchen cabinet. She should be angry. Really, she should be angrier than the day he told her the partnership was over. But, that was a long time ago—before she got it together and admitted to him that he was the only great thing in her life. That was the day she finally realized that their partnership went far beyond working cases together.

Empty. That was it. She felt exactly like she did sitting on that swing in the rain. The only significant difference is that she knows he isn't angry. He isn't punishing her or trying to be mean. He wanted to face this without her. Her anger flares for an instant.

But, then again, every time the issue with Bracken looms she pulls away just a little. She leaves him standing there wondering if she has gone off the rails; will she return to him or did she choose her dead mother over him again. Did she have the right to expect any less from him? In all the cases they've worked together, he never had to separate his family from the case. On occasion he couldn't keep his biases from showing, but he'd never really shut her out until now. He hadn't been in this position before. She had believed that they were in this together 100% but then Alexis went missing. And then he lied. He lied to her. Martha. The boys. Everyone.

When is he going to admit that writing an awesome spy story doesn't make you James Bond?

Kate took her coat off and dialed his number again only to hear that damned recording one more time. _This number is not in service at this time…_

It takes all of the energy she has to not slam the phone into the wall. She pulls out the bottle of black label whiskey and unscrews the lid. But then a thought bubbles to the surface—what if he needs me?

She decides that impairing her thoughts just might not be what's called for—she takes a deep breath and clears her mind. What would he want me to do? How can I be there for him like he always is for me?

Kate puts the bottle back and retreats to the shower.

Less than an hour later she sits down on her sofa wrapped in the robe he's left in her apartment. It smells of his aftershave. She dials her phone again and waits.

"Kate, darling. Is there any news?" Martha's desperation shines through even this late in the evening. Most nights her speech would be more than a little slurred by now, but there isn't even a trace of it.

"No, not yet. But, I wanted to check on you. How are you holding up?"

The stunned silence coming from Martha reminds her of how often she has failed this family. Normally, they are the comforters and she the victim. "I don't really know. I feel so angry." Martha pauses a little less dramatically than on a usual day. Tonight, she is genuinely Martha the woman, the mother, not the actress.

Kate gives her a minute to continue, but when she doesn't, she fills in the gap in the conversation. "They are going to be fine." She struggles to sound hopeful.

"Martha, he is far more capable than you think. Do you remember that night we bickered back and forth over who had saved whom the most, well he was right. I owe him my life and you need to know that. He's capable. He's not a cop but he's far more than your average bear too." She stops speaking abruptly. Her voice is cracking with worry, but she knows that she does believe everything she's saying. She wouldn't bother lying to Martha. She smells a lie like no one else she knows, except maybe Lanie.

"Kate. How are you?"

It was the question Kate wasn't sure how to answer. "Worried. Scared. And I'm angry. But…" She stops to try to think how best to explain it. "Yet, I feel like I've earned it. How this isn't fair to you. How many times did I shove him to the side to save someone or do something for my case and I wouldn't let him in. It's my turn on the side lines. He shouldn't have left you in the dark. Me. Well, payback is hell."

She can hear a door close and the squeak of a chair. She can picture Martha sitting at his desk. She's separating herself from the agents in the room. Privacy isn't a privilege until you find yourself constantly being watched. Martha's had to live with these kinds of things for years because of Rick's success but Kate can't even imagine how it must feel to have invaders in your home that you can't afford to remove.

"You do know my son isn't punishing you. For all the times he's been hurt and put aside by you, he still wouldn't be doing this to cause pain for you."

Kate chews on her lower lip for a second before answering. "I know that, but I can't help but feel that I don't have the right to be angry or hurt by this." Her admission is little more than a whisper. "I've done such a long list of things to him that I'm not proud of that it makes remembering this isn't about us…me difficult."

A mild hum of agreement comes through the line. "I wonder what he's up to. Has he called you recently?"

Kate realizes her mistake. "No. Martha, I was on the line with him earlier and the call was cut off. I haven't been able to get through since. It could be the battery died or he has too many things going on that he can't contact us. But, he sounded fine. I could hear another man's voice and Rick didn't sound worried. I think he trusted who he was with at the time." She knew she had embellished a little, but knowing that the call had suddenly dropped would be too much for Martha at this moment. She wanted her to have something to hold onto and Rick hadn't sounded concerned, just irritated.

Martha let out a huff of exasperation. "My son has a habit of not answering the phone when I need to hear his voice. It sounds like he will contact us when he's ready."

A muffled knock could be heard through the line. "Kate, I have to get off the phone now. They want to give an update." The phone went dead in Kate's hand.

At this second would give anything to be with him, but she knew it wasn't possible. She checked her phone for any messages before heading to bed. She had to get some rest so that she could think clearly tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

Demons 5

AN: I have no idea how far I intend to take this one…don't even plan really dealing with a case. No, I am not going to be waiting on episodes I just thought this last one tied nicely with my idea of how Kate is dealing with her guilt over the last few years.

PS By definition—the fact that I am writing fanfiction pretty much dictates that I don't own any of the characters otherwise I would be paid to do this…

Kate sat at her desk doing paperwork hoping for a phone call. Maybe she wasn't accomplishing that much, but the 12th was closer to Castle's loft than her apartment. She knew Rick and Alexis should have arrived at home by now, but that was only information supplied by the agents that were pulling out of the case since the girls were coming home safe. Rick hadn't called or contacted her since his call abruptly ended. She and Martha had kept in close contact until she was made aware that they had achieved a resolution. But, since that time Martha hadn't been available. Who could blame her, no sleep for two days and her entire world would be arriving safely in a manner of hours. Still Kate felt forgotten.

As the ideas bubbled to the surface, she once again shoved them to the back of her mind. Castle had always given her the space she needed—she owed him at least that much. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Half past eight. He had to be home by now; in theory they should have landed between 5 and 6. With debriefing and all the paperwork that the feds required, she hoped they had done it on the plane, conceivably they could still be in protective custody but she sincerely doubted it.

She startled from her thoughts when the captain sat in Castle's chair.

"Detective, why are you still here? There is not one piece of paper on that desk that can't wait until morning." Her voice was commanding and firm, but there was distinctive warmth to it.

Beckett looked up from the paperwork at Gates. She knew the woman was no fool and was reading her as best she could. She hoped the fears and doubts weren't as plain to see as she suspected.

"Kate, wouldn't you want the love of your life to be there for you after spending days fighting for those that you love?"

Beckett's mouth fell open of its own accord. "Sir?"

"Let's not worry about rank or rules right now. You know and I know where you need to be. We'll deal with the rest on another day if it comes up."

Gates stood up, turned off Beckett's desk lamp, and walked out of the bull pen leaving a stunned Beckett in her wake.

She put her pen down and went to wash out her coffee cup. She had just finished when she felt her phone vibrate at her hip with a text.

_Det. Go. TAORDR_

Beckett grabbed her coat and purse and walked out the door. Gates pointed to the waiting cab before walking away.

Kate couldn't decide between knocking or using a key as she waved at the doorman and crossed into the empty elevator. She wondered why it was that when you're in a hurry you always have to wait on red lights and elevators, but when you're nervous and unsure, when you need another minute to think everything seems to be waiting on you. As she stepped up to his door, she slipped her keys back into her pocket and gave two quick taps and backed away from the door. She'd been with man for the better part of a year and yet she felt more insecure about this moment than the day she stood here rain-soaked and burdened with knowing she had rejected him.

She waited what felt like hours but must have been a minute or two. No one answered. She debated in her head again for what she should do when she heard a voice behind her. "

"Detective Beckett, Kate, I'm so glad that your here. Be dear and open the door would you?" Martha stood with her hands loaded with take out.

Kate grabbed the keys from her pocket and opened the door. She took one of the bags from Martha's arms to help her inside.

"I was just…" she couldn't think of how to explain how she was feeling.

"Honey, they haven't been here long. I sent them off to the showers. Alexis had to be woken to come up stairs and Richard was doing his version of the walking dead. I popped out to pick up dinner. Listen to me, I'm rambling on…sorry I haven't called. It's all been so fast." Martha slowed down looking a little guiltily toward Kate. Kate just patted Martha's hand and took her coat off and dropped it on the back of chair. She went to wash her hands to help as Martha resumed dashing around the kitchen to finish preparing the meal.

Then she heard a soft "Hey coming from behind her. She looked over at the door heading into the master bedroom. A very wet and exhausted Castle stood still towel drying his hair in the doorway. He was dressed in a comfortable t-shirt and jeans, but the rings under his eyes were the darkest she had ever seen him have.

She didn't say anything at all; she walked over and wrapped her arms around him tightly and buried her nose in his neck. The hug wasn't stiff or uncomfortable. If anything she felt like he was clinging to her like she might evaporate.

Finally she pulled back and placed a hand on his cheek. "When was the last time you slept?"

"I honestly don't know, nor do I care. We're home." He leaned in to touch foreheads. She could see him fighting to keep the tears at bay.

Kate sat up in bed reading while Castle slept soundly next to her. He had given her an old notebook. She remembered how shyly he handed it to her. Maybe even sheepish. He hadn't given it any explanation or context other than he had written it in first grade and that she would be the first to ever read it.

It was one of the old composition books like she had used in science but in this one a young Rick had created his own children's story book in crayon. The story was about a lonely boy who found a magical cave that allowed him to be anything that he chose: a knight, a secret agent, or even a nutcracker. But the one thing he wanted, he couldn't be because all the other boys had fathers. It was a sad story. Kate found tears rolling down her cheeks imagining a little Rick trying to cope with his solitary life.

She closed the book and placed on the night stand and turned out the light. She spooned up to him, getting to be the big spoon for a change. He hadn't told her about the events of the last few days but she had heard enough at the station. Kate kissed the back of his neck and closed her eyes. She wondered when it was that Rick had let her past his barriers because the longer she has dwelt on Meredith's words the more she's certain that he's been letting her in bit by bit all along the way.


	6. Chapter 6

Demons 6

AN: To the guest who said the last two were confusing, I suggest watching Target and Hunt.

Rick slept and spent a few ''daddy days" with Alexis the first few days after returning from Paris. After work, Kate dropped in at the Castle loft to join in whatever they had going. For the most part, life resumed a sense of normalcy. If anything, Alexis had opened up to the idea of Kate being in a relationship with her father. Kate no longer felt as if the girl watched her every move for her to run. Rick however, had a different response. He wasn't waiting on her to run. He waited for the fighting to begin.

And, there were a few moments where she could feel him waiting for her anger to lash out at him for going without her to rescue Alexis. Gradually he learned to trust that her initial reaction of "Promise me you won't do anything like that without me again" would not be added onto. She worked at reassuring smiles and giving him the love and support that she had failed at for years. But, Kate knew in her heart that the damage done would take years to for him to recover that trust. Often she faked a smile when she felt doubt and fear; she had to show him that she was genuine.

She started by taking him on a few expeditions. They were small. Not insignificant. "This is the apartment we lived in until I was four… I attended ballet classes at a small studio in this building before they turned it into a bodega." None of these felt incredibly revealing but his attentiveness to what she had to say told her far more of how much it meant to him. She shared a few photographs from her early days with her first best friends. She had a gaggle of girls around her that echoed of Alexis and her friends from high school. She pointed out each girl and shared who they had become. Rick became painfully quiet as she finished her description of them.

If Kate thought about it, to a great degree Rick had pulled back in the recent weeks. Physically he was there, but emotionally he remained blank. Fear began to scratch at her heart on the nights alone.

Her phone chirped a new message as she sat her desk on a Saturday morning finishing paperwork. One glance and slight flutter in her chest—things were about to get better.

**My turn. 1970s Rick. Meet at 1pm?**

Rick led Kate to the public library steps and sat down beneath one of the lion statues.

"Remember when you took me to the Central Park Zoo and we sat and watched the Red Pandas while you told me about your favorite Saturday afternoon adventures with your parents. You told me how your mom would bring you there and after the time watching how many of the animals protected their young that it felt less confining to have some of the rules that your dad had insisted on to keep you safe. You said that those life lessons come back to you frequently-shaped you in ways you never realized until recently. The time I spent with dad in Paris, saving Alexis; he told me about a time or two that I spoke to him as a child not knowing who he was."

Rick's voice cracks as she watches the skin around his eyes tighten, the lines becoming more pronounced, and his mouth turns into a severe line.

Rick began again. "I always thought my dad was a sperm donor more or less. He donated DNA but I wasn't worth the time or effort to know."

He looked off into the traffic and blew out a breath. "What I didn't know is that he knew me even though I didn't know him. He mentioned running into me here when I was around 10."

Rick handed her the copy of the book that had arrived the day they came back from Paris.

He gave me a copy of _Casino Royale _exactly like this oneto read, same cover and everything. If you notice the wear on this one, I think it must have been his. When he handed it to me he said books were the best places to escape from our pains and our losses. This is my favorite. He placed the book in my hands and then he walked off. At the time I just thought some random guy had recommended a book to a kid. Now, I see it so differently." He stood up and reached out a hand to help Kate to stand. "While I waited on him to get the gear ready for me to play spy with him, I looked around his apartment. My family lines his walls in simple candid snapshots. Many of them are grainy like they were taken with a telephoto lens some are dog-eared, yellowed and even fading from sun damage." He tucked a stray hair behind her ear and gave a tepid smile.

She had expected him to lead her to the library's interior, but he went a different direction. He changed the subject while they traveled until they stopped across the street from the Presbyterian Hospital. The distant look that was in his eyes while sitting on the steps returned. "When I was 7 I met my first best friend. Hell, he was pretty much my only true friend for many years. His name was Derrick. Until him I was that weird kid that played by themselves on the playground. My daydreams felt real—other kids couldn't handle that. He might have been a bigger dreamer than me. Maybe."

He looked around trying to ground himself. Kate could feel that when he used the past tense with Derrick, that he wasn't a friend that had moved away or that the friendship ended. Rick had suffered a significant loss on this one. A thousand questions burned through her mind, but she waited for him. This was his story to tell not hers to demand.

"Our second grade year we were playing in the park. We both were climbing in a tree that we had no business in being in and it was windy. I had the breath knocked out of me, but he…I heard the bone shatter. I ran to find his mother. His left leg broke in the fall." Rick stuck a hand in his pocket and played nervously with the change he found there. Kate laced her fingers with his right hand and pulled him toward the corner coffee shop.

She thought that the one great thing to remember about hospitals is that you can always find a small place to sit and talk close to their walls. Too many people have to escape the sorrow for a little while. Usually a loved one suffers, and the caretaker needs to breathe or cry alone so that they can have stoic strength when needed. No matter how strong the person is pretending that you know everything will be okay is draining.

Kate led them to a corner booth and ordered two hot chocolates with lots of marshmallows. Comfort food would be important.

"A few days, maybe weeks later his bone wasn't healing. After a lot of testing and torture, Derrick's leukemia was diagnosed. "

Rick pulled his small notepad out of his pocket and slipped a dilapidated photograph from between the notepad and its leather case. He gingerly placed the photograph on the table between them. Two smiling faces looked up at her; one was a sickly little boy with an almost bald head, next to him was a young Rick who had obviously tried to cut off his own hair and failed. Large clumps were missing and others were exceptionally short. It created the effect that he suffered from the mange.

"Chemotherapy seemed to go on forever. But after years of fighting, he died of pneumonia when I was ten. My dad, he found me. He gave me that book suggestion on the day of the funeral. At that time in my life I hated my dad. A searing, burning hatred. I needed him to show me how to handle all these emotions that I didn't know how to deal with, how to be a man and mom couldn't help. She didn't know what to say or do. I believed he left me to my mother, to my own devices. But, sitting in his room in Paris there was picture of me in my suit standing at the graveside funeral the same day he met me at the library. He gave me what he could. He broke rules for me, but these were rules that wouldn't get me killed. He showed me what support could be without being an active role."

He clutched Kate's hands quietly across the table. Their hot chocolate had probably grown tepid. But she could see a growing sense of relief and confusion running through him.

"Rick, I bet he did more for you than you will ever know. " She didn't know if she believed the words she said, but he needed to believe them whether they were true or not.

She let go of one of his hands and pulled the photograph closer to her. "I think it's safe to say that the world is a safer place with you being a writer instead of a barber."

He rolled his eyes in his best Beckett imitation. "Hey. I was only eight and have you ever tried to cut hair with children's safety scissors. For the record, Dexter's mother was duly impressed. The impression I left on my mother…let's just say that even though I was supposed to be her date for the Tony's that year…she took one of her conquests instead saying that she didn't want her friends to start taking up a collection for me. I think she feared that the first one who asked if I was sick that I would have pretended to have Derrick's symptoms too. At first, I might have. But by the end I could only go see him once a week. We played Pong and pretended he would get better."

Kate nodded in understanding.

"I couldn't let him not grow up. My first Derrick Storm short story was written based on a game he and I used to play. We had a G.I. Joe and a Stretch Armstrong. "

Kate sat speechless. Words failed her more often than she liked to admit. There's a reason he's the writer and she's a reader. She slipped out of her side of the booth to his. She cuddled into his side and just sat watching out the window until the Rick she loved returned from where ever his memories had taken him.

"I think my writing started as a cross between those afternoons and James Bond."

She glanced up at him. He amazed her with how hopeful he looked. Then again, Derrick had been made into an immortal. The boy would never really die. Rick's gift to his friend made her heart feel a tight squeeze of pride. The man redefines loyalty in ways she was just beginning to understand.


	7. Chapter 7

Demons 7

AN: I want to apologize for not writing anything but I can say that it has been due to a few things. The twins turned 7 and we had to have a birthday party; and most importantly my muse seemed to have taken a vacation. I would rather give the reader a break from me than make them suffer through a steaming pile of poo…

No I don't own Castle…

Kate smiled listening to Rick's keys tapping away as she drove. This was the compromise. After a week with a murdered pregnant woman, Kate had to escape the confines of New York. Gina, on the other hand didn't give a damn about Kate's needs; SHE needed an outline for his next novel preferably not a Nikki Heat. Although they hadn't discussed it, Kate knew that Gina had tossed all of her anger and resentment for Kate onto her alter-ego which may be the reason Rick giggled in glee frequently as he outlined a lengthy sex scene for Nikki and Rook.

She turned onto the small state road that led to her father's cabin. She hadn't set foot on this property since her self-imposed isolation. She needed for him to see where she had been and that his presence was there.

She stopped the car at the end of the dirt and gravel drive. The small cabin brought back memories of early Sam Raimi films. She smirked at him as his eyes widened in recognition.

"Please tell me there isn't a basement to this place?!"

She gave him a crooked grin as her response as she left the car lights on so that she could see the key hole in the door. Flipping on the porch lights and some of the interior, she wondered if she should lie to him and pretend that there really was a basement. He would know by morning, but for this moment it could be fun. But then her eyes fell on the stack of mail she had left on the cabinet next to the door. Sitting on top of the pile, a large padded yellow envelope bore Josh's Sanskrit of a print. Her playfulness seeped out as memory flooded her system.

"Earth to Kate. Can I come in?" He startled her from the reverie. Using one arm to guide her out of the doorway so that he could carry in a few of their bags; she snapped her head up to meet his eyes.

She felt the twinge of sadness leap from herself to him. She had spent more than the last year trying to insulate him from her pains only to discover he truly volunteered. He sacrificed his happiness for her again and again without even thinking about it. To say that Kate felt overwhelmed and out of her league was possibly the greatest understatement. Ever. Rick had shown her what selflessness should be. Only she hadn't even begun to grasp how he managed to achieve it with such sincerity without losing any of his own self-worth.

She quickly gave him a peck on the cheek. "Our room is at the end of the hall. I'm going to grab the groceries out of the backseat."

They crossed each other's paths multiple times before the task was finished. Rick felt her pulling away from him, but couldn't determine the reasoning. She could feel his brain gears spinning-searching for answers.

Kate, whether she wanted to admit it or not, knew that she had been unfair, cruel that summer she had refused his presence. She wanted to share what she went through with him even if the timing was more than a little late.

She finished putting away their food for the next few days and then washed her hands to begin preparing a snack. Dinner had been at a mom and pop diner that she and her dad had been eating at for nearly 30 years. The burgers were chargrilled on homemade sourdough buns. They were delicious, satisfying and overly greasy. But, three hours later and she could hear her stomach rumbling. She suspected it was the anxiety of facing these moments with him.

She lost herself in the task of slicing cheese and apples to the point that she jolted away from him when his arms came around her.

Kate immediately put the knife down and grabbed him by the arm before he walked away, hurt.

"I didn't hear you. I'm sorry." It was plaintive and childlike. He sensed her vulnerability enough to accept her answer at face value. No questioning. Not tonight. Not here.

Rick grabbed the bottled water while she carried the plate of finger food to small sitting room. His Manhattanite expectations curled up into a ball and cried for mercy. He fought back the sneer before sitting on the dreadful wool covered monstrosity of a couch that had somehow survived the 1970s. He couldn't believe that at some point in history a designer, someone known for having taste, picked that olive green to go into a pattern with pumpkin orange. No one in their right mind would have made that plaid.

"I survived three months on that couch. You can sit on it without it killing you."

Kate rolled her eyes as she flopped down and kicked off her shoes. Nibbling on cheese wasn't really how she planned to tell him about her time here, but then again. Thematically speaking, it wasn't far off the mark.

She patted the spot closest to her hoping the encouragement would make him relax. But, Castle can't be contained as easily as most. He noticed the pile of mail on the table near the door. The bloodhound in his soul knew they were hers. He stepped closer to examine it; then, he casually pushed the top envelope out of the way to reveal the next, and on down the line.

"Josh didn't come here with you?" Rick's mild attempt to school his features brought a warm smile to her lips.

"No. After being poked and prodded day after day by him and the hospital staff I didn't want him here. And then a week went by and the voice I wanted to hear wasn't his. Two weeks in and he threatened to drive up here." She paused and wiped at her eyes. She was crying, well at least not yet. She took a slow sip off her water and cleared her throat.

"From the moment I woke up with him holding my hand in the hospital until I managed to escape I knew that the wrong person was there. But, then again the shrink I spoke to in the hospital told me that during the recovery period with all the medications and trying to wrap my head around cheating death that I shouldn't make big decisions. At the time I thought it made sense. The shrink thought she was talking me out of quitting the force. I wasn't 100% sure what I wanted, but I knew that he wasn't the answer. I hoped you were." She quit talking for a moment. She grabbed a slice of apple and popped it into her mouth.

"Why didn't you open his mail?"

"Why should I? I had said everything I needed to over the phone. I had tried at the hospital, God knows I did. But, he didn't want to hear what I had to say. The longer I was away from it all, the more I cringed when I saw his number appear on my phone. Two weeks into my exile made me positive that I had to let him go. He was a good man, but he wasn't for me."

He picked up the envelopes and sat them in her lap. "If he meant so little, why did you keep them?"

Kate shook her head. "I threw those away. My nurse on the other hand kept them for 'closure.' He thought I needed it."

Rick's confusion heightened with the male nurse. "I thought you came here to recuperate by yourself." He stuttered the last few words out.

Jealousy wasn't something either one of them hid well. "Castle, my nurse happened to be my father." She swatted his arm. "He thought if I read these I would see that his love for me wasn't what I could have with the man I did love if I would let me be happy."

"Oh."

"Oh, is right. My dad—he's right more often than he's wrong. He knew I was crazy about you even when I complained about you in every phone call no matter whether I called you a pompous ass or man-child. He didn't let me forget it either, until Josh. He shut up when that seemed like what I wanted. He let me make my own mistakes. But, his eyes—he couldn't make them lie to me. I saw the disappointment. He knew that I didn't belong with him. He called me on it, but only after I told you to get out of my life before I was shot."

Rick finally sat down with her and counted the envelopes. There were 10 of them, but not one of them weighed more than if one single sheet were in them.

He handed her his pocket knife. "Maybe you can get closure."

The Beckett eye roll made an appearance but then she acquiesced and began slitting them open.

She skimmed each page and as she finished each one she crumpled them into little balls and shot them into the bucket where her dad kept pine cones to be used as kindling.

When her lap was empty she looked back at Rick with a warm smile. "He met someone new. Well, not so much new, but reconnected with the one who got away. She wanted to work for Doctors without Borders with him. He ran into her one morning while riding his Harley to work. Literally."

With a shake of her head, some of the guilt and sadness lessened. Josh hadn't ached of loneliness for a year like she had.

She leaned in for a kiss. "Come on snuggle bunny. I'm too tired to continue on down memory lane tonight." She stood and grabbed his hand heading for their room.


	8. Chapter 8

Demons 8

Rick woke early in the cramped little bed they had shared. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept in a double bed with another person, not that he was complaining. Kate had made an excellent blanket. He listened to the birds singing their morning praises even though the sun still hadn't crested over the trees.

He had been surprised to find that her room was far more personalized here than the living room had been. On the dresser across from the bed sat an 8x10 of the two of them when they danced at the fundraiser for her the scholarship in her mother's honor. Rick was fairly certain that neither of them had known the photograph existed until it appeared in the room. Of course, she had known of its existence for longer than he had. Judging by the worn places on the frame, she had spent a long time looking at that photograph last summer. The flowers that he had brought to her in the hospital were dried and pressed in a frame hanging next to the bed. For months he had not felt her presence, she had not had that problem. If anything, she had been surrounded by little reminders of him. The more Rick scanned the room, the more snapshots of the two of them stood out. They were also in them together, candid. Most of them he knew when they were taken; he was willing to bet that Lanie and Esposito had provided one or two but most had to have been Jim's doing. Every charity function he had cajoled her into going to whether on a case or just to spend time with her was represented in this room. Truthfully Jim had been to many of those same events. Every photograph was at least a year old some went back as shortly after he met her.

He felt her head move as she shifted her chin to his chest so that she could look at him. "Hey."

There was an inherent shyness to her greeting that he wasn't sure how to interpret. "Hey" he replied.

"I see you are enjoying my dad's decorations."

"Jim did this?"

"Yep." Her smile grew. "If I had known he had done this I wouldn't have taken him up on his offer to stay here while I was recuperating. He told me he had a surprise waiting for me at the cabin. I had no idea, but I was very thankful that Josh hadn't made the trip."

Rick grinned ridiculously. "I don't know. He might have enjoyed seeing how lovely you looked in formal attire."

She rolled her eyes. "I think he would have seen what I didn't want to immediately." She cleared her throat and slid off of him. She grabbed a frame he hadn't noticed.

"This one is my favorite and possibly the most damaging to Josh." She held it out for him to take. It had been taken at her mother's fundraiser just like the one on the dresser, but in this one she was snuggled deep into him dancing with her eyes closed, her head on his shoulder. One of his arms was around her back while the other seemed dangerously low on her hip. Her face displayed the most content look he had ever seen her wear.

Rick sat up and flipped his pillow so that he could lean against the head board. "I doubt that Josh would have felt comfortable seeing these."

Her face fell a little as guilt rolled in, but then she shoved it to the side. One of the things she had learned over that summer is that she didn't cheat on Josh all those times she enjoyed herself with Rick. In fact, it was the opposite. She had cheated on Rick with Josh. She had given him her heart long before she had admitted to it. She could blame it on being jealous of him running off with Gina, or that he had been dating other people all along, but she knew the truth. If she had finished what she wanted to say that day at the station, if she had trusted him that first time he asked her to the Hamptons, everything would have been different. But, would they be here? She sincerely doubted that their relationship would have lasted if it had not gone through the steps they had.

"True. I spent much of that summer wondering why it is that I had missed the obvious. I mean we do make a good team, but if you look at every picture in here it is clear that we love each other and have for a very long time. It used to scare me to see these because I could compare it to those I had of me and Josh. We never looked this bonded, together."

He couldn't decide if she sounded sad or just accepted the situation for what it was. He handed her the frame back and watched her hang it on the wall. As soon as he was done he reached out a hand so that she would snuggle back into his side which she did without reservation.

"With the way you left, this isn't what I expected to find here."  
She clutched him tighter and said, "It wasn't what I expected either, but by a month in I was glad for it. This room comforted me after a long day of fighting to retrain muscles and heal. Dad stayed with me that first month and then he just dropped in on weekends. The time alone was so hard. I can't tell you how many times I replayed that stupid argument of ours in my head. No matter how much I tried to justify the things I said to you, I knew who had been honest and I knew who had hurt the other. I have too many things to make up to you for, but there isn't any way to do it. I just get to live with what I've done which is not something that I like to do. I used to be able to just turn it off and walk away, but with you—it's different. "

She could feel him withdrawing inside his mind. "Beckett, it would have been nice to know what you were thinking. That summer, I can't even begin to explain what it was like. At first, I wanted to honor your request for space. Then, I was anxious that maybe you remembered but didn't know how to let me down easy. After I crawled out of my case of black label, I wondered if you blamed me for everything that happened. I certainly wasn't guilt free."

While he was talking she entwined her fingers with his, but the contact wasn't enough. Before had reached 'guilt free,' she had sat on his lap and framed his face with her hands.

"Castle, I" He put a single finger to her lips.

"Kate, I don't want or need an apology."

Her sad eyes cut into him a little. "Rick, if you aren't still hurt by it, you wouldn't have addressed me as Beckett while sitting in my bed."

A half-smile crept up the left side of his mouth. "The memory hurts, but only because of the choices I made couldn't have gotten much worse."

Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to work out what he meant by that. He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding her in place. "I should have contacted you-sent you an email, or a text just to let you know I was thinking of you."

She kissed him softly and pulled back. "I knew you were. I couldn't get you out my head. I went back and forth trying to decide what to honor my mother's memory or what she would have wanted for my life."

She kissed him again, a little deeper, slower.

"So, what did you decide?"

She chuckled softly as she began kissing down his jawline. The little growling noises he occasionally made kept her from stopping.

"Well, are you going to answer me?"

He could feel her smiling against his neck. "Little busy here. "

He launched his body toward the foot of the bed taking her with him, pinning her to the bottom. She laughed for a minute and looked up at him.

"Rick, I think the answer is obvious. I want it all. I want justice; I want the love of my life. I want to see Bracken go down; I want kids of my own with you. I don't believe I should have to choose, but if I do, I choose you."

He didn't bother responding with words. The strength of his kisses, and his hands making quick work of her buttons answered concisely.


	9. Chapter 9

Demons 9

Kate led the way down the dock. She dropped his hand and bent down to undo the laces of her shoes. After slipping her canvas tennis shoes off, she welcomed the icy cold water of the mountain lake. She patted the wooded surface next to her. He didn't immediately sit down. In fact, when she looked up she could see a slight grimace on his face as he looked at the murky water.

"Are you sure this is a good idea? You can't see even a foot into the water."

She rolled her eyes and grinned at him. "Nessie comes out in the summer, but she's fun to swim with so I wouldn't worry too much." Her sarcasm laden voice chastised him enough to sit down. He did remove his shoes, but she watched him cross his legs rather than dip his toes. She really didn't blame him; she had chill bumps from the water temp, but it brought back so many memories of spring time on the dock with her mother. It's the little things that keep her memories alive and Kate refused to let even one of those go.

"We always came here during my spring break for the first time in the water. Mom and I would swim out to that floating pontoon and back. By the time we sat on the dock our skin was slightly blue and our teeth chattered."

Rick sat looking around the lake, but didn't say anything for a minute or two. "My spring breaks were usually spent in a theatre or the NY public library. I didn't learn to swim until I went off to boarding school. It was part of the Phys Ed curriculum so I had to do it."

She could sense the sadness coming off of him. There was much more to this story, but she wouldn't force him to speak. Instead she pulled her legs up on the dock and swung her body around so that she could lay her head in his lap and look up at him with the bright smile on her face. If she were wet, this too would be something she had done a million times a year with her mother. Her mom would grace her with her own childhood stories about her father, the vaudeville magician who later sold shoes on Coney Island. Her mother's stories were one part fantasy and one part history. She knew even then that there were some doors you couldn't pry open, just had listen carefully.

Rick cleared his throat as he ran his hands through her hair. The curls thickened from the humidity. "Martha, not the version you know, but the one I grew up with just before puberty, struggled with her age and single motherhood. There was period where she even pretended that I was her sister's son that she was raising out of the goodness of her heart. Many of her patrons at the time didn't like her extra baggage as I was all too often referred." He looked off into the distance trying to hide his emotions as usual when this particular subject slid to the surface. "Mom's alcohol use reached its peak in this period. She wasn't Joan Crawford in her behavior, but then again she certainly wasn't the Martha Rogers you know and love either. The spring break that I turned eleven I came home to our small apartment from a day the library. The apartment was supposed to be empty—she had rehearsal all day which was why we had cancelled our trip to visit Ellis Island…something I was fascinated with at the time. I heard moans as I came to the front door. At first I was afraid I would be interrupting, but then I heard the sound again. It wasn't sexual, more like wounded animal. I opened the door and ran in hoping that I had misheard, but …"

Kate sat up and wrapped an arm around his sagging shoulders. He fought his tears valiantly but it was truly a pointless gesture. She had seen him cry many times. To her, his ability to let them flow showed her the strength that she wished she had herself.

"Whoever had come home with her that afternoon had brought a couple of truly expensive bottles of whiskey. Mom had drunk excessively. I guess she had blacked out because when I came home, mom was tied spread eagled to our dining table. She had been raped obviously—she had admitted that she had expected sex with him, but apparently he preferred a struggle. He had terrified her. Do you remember when we were watching _Girl with the Dragon Tattoo_ and I had to take a break? That scene where she's raped brought me right back to my mom on that table. She wouldn't let me call the police or an ambulance. She did let me help her off the table. I cleaned the apartment as she took care of her own wounds. To this day we've not talked about it."

Rick ran his fingers through his hair and then swiped a few tears off his cheek. "I doubt that was the spring break story you would expect from the wild and crazy Ricky Castle."

She kissed him and nuzzled him with her nose. "I thought the wild Ricky didn't arrive until around 14."

"Closer to 16, but that was when I had a stepfather that we shared a mutual hatred for one another. I think he hated that I actually did better at entertaining people at his parties than he did."

She smiled at him and tucked one of his longer hairs behind his ear and then caressed his strong jaw. "Considering you've been able to melt Iron Gates, I am sure you could have broken through his hatred with your charm."

An evil grin spread across his face. "That would have required me to have motivation. I need Gates to want me around so I can be with you. I didn't want him around. He was charlatan and my mother was either too foolish or drunk to see it. He was one of two husbands that have emptied her bank accounts before leaving. But, before he did that I gave him a few memories for his circle of friends that haven't been forgotten. One night when he was trying to maneuver a political deal, even the mayor was at our apartment that night. He had hired a big band with a pianist that delighted us with Cole Porter and a few other well accepted song writers. But, I had been careful to play the part of dutiful son in front of the band. They seemed to have figured out that he and I didn't love each other dearly. So, two thirds the way through the evening when the pianist wanted a bathroom break, I sat down at the baby grand. I gave a quick charming smile to the band members and I was sure they were game to follow my lead. After all, they had already been paid and found that they weren't going to be tipped very well…but that digresses into another story altogether. I cracked my fingers and started a very raucous version of Jerry Lee Lewis' Great Balls of Fire. I belted that baby out. Why I hit shake it baby shake it there were many women way too drunk to think about decorum. The mayor danced to his favorite song and enjoyed the heavily endowed jiggling view in front of him. Many of the other 'great' New Yorkers who were three sheets to the wind joined in… needless to say, Mom jiggled as well not to be upstaged by the young. Sebastian stood changing colors in a rage off to the side. I was off to boarding school first thing the next morning. But, there are many, many people who still remark on that moment as one of the best times they had at one of those political fundraisers. God those parties are so dull."

The devilish gleam had returned to his eyes; she preferred to see him with this self-assured bravado than the broken/ lonely little boy he must have been through his childhood.

The wind picked up and bit into her skin. He felt her shivering and removed her arm from around him. He helped her put her shoes back on so they could return to the cabin. The walk wasn't long, but the return trip was straighter than the on down there had been. Shortly sheets of rain cascaded down into their bare heads as their quick walk became a sprint.

By the time they arrived back at the cabin, they were wetter than they would've been if they had gone swimming. They went in the front door by which time Kate's teeth were chattering ridiculously fast. Rick lit the gas fire log. When he turned back to her she was still standing in front of the door rubbing her arms trying to get warm.

Stepped up behind her and grabbed the hem of her shirt and brought it over her head quickly, and then grabbed her sweat pants and tugged them to her ankles in one swift move. He tossed her the quilt from the back of the sofa before doing the same to his own clothes. He sat down on that atrocious piece of furniture thankful that he didn't have to worry about ruining it. He pulled her into his lap and wrapped the quilt around both of them. Between the fire and the quilt Kate's regained control of the muscles in her jaw and then cleared her throat.

For some reason she looked embarrassed, but Rick knew that it had nothing to do with her partial nudity or how much she luxuriated in the warmth of his skin. She definitely enjoyed these moments as much as she did. His hands were exploring her curves gently under the quilt, not in seduction just appreciation for the moment. But with the slightest provocation, he would be more than willing to ride this particular idea where ever it led.

"When I first got out of the hospital, I didn't even go by my apartment. Lanie packed my bags for me. Dad met me in front of the hospital with a car and drove me here. He didn't tell me about the new decorations. In fact, he didn't say much on the ride here. Our relationship has been twisted out of proportion off and on through the years. There have been times that I was the adult, but on that ride I felt like a five year old that had been caught sneaking a peak at the Christmas presents. Dad was angry. Very. I thought it was about the shooting. But, after an hour's quiet my mind told me it wasn't. At some point he made it obvious that he was angry over something Josh had said about you. I think he thought I knew about the fight between the two of you and that I should have defended you. At the time I don't think I had been informed yet. I know Josh didn't tell me. I suspect he knew how well that would go."

She shifted on his lap and cuddled into him. More skin touching had ceased to be a negative to either of them a long, long time ago.

"I knew dad was firmly in your corner without his saying anything about it. If you could have been a fly on the wall when I entered my room here… In fact, you may have heard me yelling at him about it all the way in NYC. God, how I raged at him! I yelled and pitched a fit that you wouldn't believe. I refused to sleep in that room for the first few days I was here. But, as time went on and my demons took shape I crept in there in the wee hours of the morning for comfort. He never said a word, but more than once he caught me curled up on the floor holding one of the photographs in my hand having cried myself to sleep. I would wake with a blanket draped over me and the photograph back where it belonged. On day 4 or 5 he changed the sheets on the bed and moved my pillow from the couch. He mumbled something about the wool being scratchy. "

She sat up enough to look him straight in the eyes. "I finally became brave enough to return to the city when he showed me that_ Heat Rises_had been released. I know I let you and the boys believe I went to your book signing about mother's case, but I don't know that I could have managed another day or two without hearing your voice. Even after having read the book, it wasn't the same as having you beside me. I let you believe it was about the case because I wanted to believe that it was true. I still wasn't willing to tell myself that I deserved you. And then when you didn't torture me for being an ass…I knew it was time to really go to work on it. The day I decided to see Dr. Burke about fixing me was the day I realized I couldn't give you what you needed without it."

Rick pulled her closer to him. "The only thing I have ever needed was you." He pulled her body against his. She felt his fingers release the clasp from the back of her bra. She disentangled her arms from the straps and captured his lips with hers.

"So Mr. Castle do you want to go with available and scratchy or post pone long enough for soft and safe?"

"How about we work on christening all the rooms? So far we've handled your bedroom and"

"Don't forget we've already used the sun porch and it's much too cold for that right now anyway."

He wiggled his eyebrows and flopped her full body on to the cedar chest that was used as a coffee table. I was thinking maybe a tour of tables. Coffee, kitchen, billiards in the library…"

She grabbed the quilt behind him dropping his full on top of her. "I'm game old man but the boxers have got to go." He grinned down at her. Kate remained deeply thankful that even as they pealed the layers of pain away they still had the ability to find each other; their playful banter, their endless verbal tennis match. No one tried to win, just return the volley. She hated to admit it but this man-child was perfect.


End file.
